


Home Truths

by DizzyDrea



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock contemplates some home truths, about himself and about his teacher's assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Truths

**Author's Note:**

> In an ongoing effort to clear out my hard drive and get the backlog of my stories posted somewhere online, I offer this story, written the summer after I saw the JJ Abrams Star Trek reboot. I love that movie, and it spawned a few stories, some of which are unfinished. This one is (finished, that is).
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry, CBS, Paramount, JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions and a lot of other people who aren’t me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Commander Spock sat staring out the windows of his office at Starfleet Academy. To be more accurate, he was staring at the form of Cadet Nyota Uhura as she sat on the ledge in front of the windows in his office, reviewing data on a PADD. She was stretched out along the ledge, her long, bare legs catching the sunlight as it filtered in through the windows, feet clad in standard issue tall black boots and ankles crossed. Her customary short red uniform seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, broken only by the obsidian cascade of hair resting over her shoulder. She was, in a word, intoxicating. Which was a startling thought from a man who never, ever became intoxicated. By anything. For any reason.

She had long ago finished her course of study with him in Xenolinguistics, learning every language, soaking in detail after detail about the subtle nuances of the languages of Starfleet and how to deconstruct them in order to use them as tools to learn new languages. He had found her an apt pupil, curious and adaptive, intelligent to the extreme, eager to learn and determined to succeed. It had been refreshing to have a student so dedicated to the mastery of her field of choice.

When Cadet Uhura had completed his section, he had approached her to offer her a position as his student aide. She had been the logical choice, but that was not what had compelled him to make the offer. He knew it was a human reaction, but he also knew he was loathe to end their relationship, professional though it was.

His eyes unfocussed as he called to mind the memory of that day.

~o~

_"Cadet Uhura," he called to her. "A word, if I may?"_

_The lecture hall had been nearly three quarters full, this being among the last lessons before the final exam and oral competency. There was a low din in the air as the students disbursed from the room. Cadet Uhura had turned to her companion, speaking too quietly to be heard over the conversations of the other students. When she had finished speaking, she turned and descended the stairs from her third row seat to stand before him, eyes bright with curiosity instead of trepidation, which was the normal reaction when he asked to speak to a student._

_His regard for her elevated another notch._

_"You wished to speak to me, Commander Spock?" she asked politely._

_"Yes, Cadet," he said. "Please, follow me."_

_He collected his data PADDs from the lectern and strode out the door at the side of the hall. Once in the corridor, he turned left and headed towards his office, Uhura following a half-step behind._

_When he arrived at his office, he paused and palmed the door lock, standing aside when the door swished open to allow the Cadet to enter first. He followed her inside and crossed to his desk opposite the wall of floor to ceiling windows to deposit his PADDs._

_Uhura followed him to the desk and stood patiently, her book bag dangling from fingers that were clasped in front of her, waiting for him to speak. He tugged unconsciously at the front of his black staff tunic, then tucked his hands behind his back._

_"Cadet Uhura," he began without preamble, "I find that I will be without an assistant for my Xenolinguistics classes next semester. I have been given leave to choose whomever I wish. I have chosen to offer you the position, your schedule permitting, of course."_

_Uhura blinked up at him for several long seconds, her mouth slack and her eyes darting around as the shock washed over her. Spock noted with some small amusement that she had an interesting and perhaps endearing way of flaring her nose as she tried to come to grips with his statement._

_"Wow," she finally said when the bulk of the shock had passed through her. "I'm honored you thought of me. I'd love to work for you."_

_"You are the most skilled student in my class this semester," he said truthfully. "In addition, the position of student assistant is generally given to a senior level cadet, which you will be at the start of the next term. Therefore, it was logical to choose you for this assignment."_

_It was mostly true. She was his finest student. She was the logical choice. But those weren't his only motives, a fact he tried to bank aside for a more appropriate time._

_"I hope I won't disappoint you," she said._

_"It will be sufficient for you to perform your duties to the best of your ability."_

_Uhura smiled then, a full smile that reached all the way to her eyes, filling them with a spark he found appealing. It was like the sun on Vulcan at midday, and he found he wanted to make her smile more often, that he might bask in the glow emanating from her in that moment. Yet another illogical thought that he would have to store away and meditate on later._

_"Very well," he said instead. "I will contact you when the summer break is over so that we may determine your schedule."_

_"I'm looking forward to it," she said, still beaming._

_Spock found, much to his utter surprise, that he was too._

_He nodded to her, then said, "I will enter the appropriate information into the Academy computers. Dismissed, Cadet."_

_She nodded in return and retreated from the room. He asked himself again if this was a prudent course of action, and again his mind supplied the logic of it. The fact that she was human introduced a variable that he was certain his logic could not account for, however. But, what was done was done, and he had no wish to undo it._

_Spock sighed and turned to his desk and the work waiting there._

~o~

That had been nearly a year ago, and in that time she had done her best and more. He knew that as a professor, his greatest deficiency was his inability to relate to his students, a difficulty that she did not seem to suffer from. She was naturally inclined to find the ease in interpersonal relationships, even those with other races and species, and he found that he had come to depend on her more each day.

In light of that realization, he understood that it was time to speak some home truths to himself, as his mother would say—truths that he had uncharacteristically been avoiding analyzing for far too long.

And the first of these truths was that she had somehow integrated herself into his life in such a way that he not only noticed when she was absent, but actually mourned her absence until she returned.

It had begun innocently enough. As a Vulcan, he was a creature of habit; the comfort of routine allowed him to maintain both physical and mental balance. Cadet Uhura had simply inserted herself into his routines. She began eating her lunch in his office at the same time he did each day. At first, he had continued to read journals or grade papers as was his usual habit. But his mother had taught him that humans liked to engage in conversation on inconsequential topics—small talk she had called it—while they ate. So, he had endeavored to draw her out in conversation, divining her likes and dislikes as well as information about her family along the way.

Sharing lunch had led to the occasional dinner. He had learned her tastes through their conversations at lunch, and so had begun to suggest places they might try. But it wasn't only her tastes in food he'd begun to understand. She would mention favorite authors or pieces of music, and if he hadn't sampled them already, he set out to do so at his earliest convenience. He told himself it was merely so that he would have other topics with which to engage her when they dined together. And, in turn, he would share with her things he found appealing that he thought she might enjoy as well.

Which brought him to another inescapable truth: her happiness now mattered to him. He found himself inquiring about her day, her friends, her studies, her family. He told himself that it was logical to be concerned for her wellbeing, since she was his assistant and if she were unable to fulfill those duties, he would have to find a replacement.

But the truth was far more insidious. Whenever she was tired, unwell, distracted under stress, sad, angry, anytime she was less than content, he found himself searching for ways to restore her good humor. Which sent him right back to the first truth and his efforts to learn her tastes so that he might find something with which to elevate her spirits.

He was finally forced to conclude that his behavior precisely mimicked how his father behaved toward his mother. Which brought home the most difficult truth he had yet faced. He had fallen in love with his assistant.

He knew well the misconception that most people had about Vulcans was that they had no emotions. The truth was quite the opposite: Vulcans were possessed of the most violent, the most extreme emotions of nearly all sentient beings. It was only through the discipline of logic that they were able to bring calm to the chaos their emotions evoked. Logic was the tool they used to subdue the emotions, to bring order to their lives, to allow reason and sanity to prevail.

It was not logical to fall in love, much less to be in love with a human, but Spock had done both. Love, as with all emotions, drove an individual to foolish actions. It had been the downfall of countless civilizations, including nearly destroying the Vulcans before they learned mastery of their emotions.

He had never expected his regard for Uhura to develop any farther than friendship. It had not occurred to him that it might. It was easy, here at Starfleet Academy where everyone perceived him as Vulcan, to forget that he was also half human, and therefore perhaps even more susceptible to the vagaries of human emotion.

He had spent much time as a child speaking to his mother about her humanity, but rarely had the subject of love come up. But there was one day that it did, and he remembered it as if it were yesterday.

~o~

_"Mother, why did you marry my father?"_

_Amanda Grayson paused in the midst of pouring tea and glanced up at her only child. She finished pouring the fragrant brew and set the pot aside, reaching for a cup and handing it to him where he sat on the divan near her._

_"We married because we fell in love," she told him._

_Spock cocked his head to one side and replied. "That is not what Father said."_

_They were seated in a room on the north side of the house. It had been his mother's favorite for as long as he could remember. The floor to ceiling windows offered an expansive view of the mountains surrounding the capitol city, and his mother could often be found there, especially in the afternoons as she did her needlework or reviewed correspondence._

_Amanda regarded her son with a faint smile on her face. "What did he tell you?" she asked as she leaned back into the cushions, her own cup cradled in her hands._

_Spock sat up a little straighter as if in response to her relaxed pose. "He said that it was logical to marry you."_

_It had been two days since his father had said those words. Two days since events at school had necessitated a visit to the headmaster's office. He had thought about his father's words and found them strangely unsatisfying._

_Amanda's smile grew. "And so it was," she said._

_"That, mother, is illogical."_

_"Is it?" she shot back, her good humor still in place despite the harshness of the words. Spock frowned, trying to puzzle through her human logic. Amanda gentled her smile and leaned forward to set her cup on the table. "Spock-kam, a thing need not be logical in order to be true."_

_"Please explain."_

_"When I met your father, he had just arrived on Earth to take on the Ambassadorship," she said. "He was young for a Vulcan diplomat, but also handsome, and so very logical. We spent hours talking, debating, sometimes even arguing. He was surprised at my ability to use logic to form an argument, and I was surprised by the passion with which he argued his points."_

_Spock looked at her curiously. He had never heard his mother speak so about his father. It was fascinating. "Please continue," he said, sipping at his tea._

_"When he proposed to me, I asked him why he wanted to marry me," she said._

_Spock's eyebrow arched at her impertinence. "What did he say?"_

_Amanda smiled wistfully. "He told me that he valued our friendship, and desired for it to continue. I reminded him that marriage was not necessary for us to continue our friendship. He then told me that it was logical for him to marry me due to his close association with Earth—to better learn our customs. I pointed out that this task could just as easily be accomplished with the help of a friend. Again, marriage was not necessary."_

_"Your logic was flawless, Mother," Spock felt compelled to say. He had always thought of her as an emotional being, but he could see now why his father had married her. She had learned to use logic, and it had served her well._

_"Thank you," she said, smiling at the praise. "I told your father that it would be more logical for him to marry a Vulcan woman because by choosing to marry me, he would be risking derision from the Vulcan High Council. Perhaps even censure for daring to marry outside his race."_

_Spock leaned forward, cradling his cup in his hands. "What did he say then?" he asked, well and truly curious now._

_Amanda had a twinkle in her eye. "He said that, though it was not logical for him to do so, he preferred my company to that of any other he had met, man or woman, Vulcan or not. He said," she leaned forward and cupped his cheek in her hand, "that he loved me. And that the logical thing to do when one has fallen in love with someone is to marry that person."_

_Spock's eyes widened and he sat up. Amanda's hand dropped to the cushions, still with a smile on her face._

_"Father told you he loved you?" He couldn't control the shock in his voice, nor at this moment did he want to. His father, whom he had always regarded as supremely logical, had expressed an emotional attachment to his mother as the primary reason for marrying her._

_"Yes, my sweet boy," she said softly. "I would not have married him for less a reason."_

_"But why did he say that?" he asked._

_"That I do not know," she said. "I can only tell you that I didn't coerce him into those words. I only wanted him to express his true reasons for offering me marriage. I believed him when he said it. And it only made me love him more."_

_"This is most perplexing."_

_Amanda chuckled. "You sound like your father," she said. "I know that you don't understand, Spock, but one day you will. When you meet a young woman who attracts your interest like no other, you will understand what I've said."_

_"I am not entirely convinced that I will, Mother," he said. "I am a Vulcan."_

_"But you're also half human," she reminded him gently. "And you're my son. Whatever else you may believe, trust that one day, you will know that being well matched involves emotion as well as logic."_

_"As you wish," he said, sighing. He was not certain that he would ever fully understand her and her emotions, but she was correct in pointing out that he was half human. That did make a difference, as he had found out only two days ago._

_Amanda studied her son carefully. "Just remember, it would be unseemly to discuss this further with your father. But you may talk to me about this anytime you wish."_

_"Thank you, Mother," he said. "Perhaps I will."_

~o~

He had, of course, never broached the subject again. Their conversation had left him unsettled. Thinking of his father having an emotional response to anything made him uncomfortable. It wasn't until days later that he began to understand why. If his father could react emotionally—his father who was a full-blooded Vulcan possessed of a keen intelligence and flawless logic—then he would have to assume that as a half-human hybrid, he would be fully capable of doing the same, and perhaps to a more extreme degree.

It had been what had caused him to redouble his efforts to master his emotions, no matter how difficult the task. His father had never asked why he had suddenly begun to work so hard at Vulcan disciplines, but he suspected his father would learn the truth from his mother. And though he never spoke of it with his father, he surmised that his mother had never spoken of it with him either.

He had dismissed his mother's words to him as illogical banter. But now, looking across the room at Cadet Uhura, he was forced to acknowledge that she had been correct after all. He had indeed found a woman who's company he preferred above all others. And he had indeed fallen in love with her, though it was not logical to do so.

And so, here he sat, pondering the facts as he knew them. He was in love with Nyota Uhura. Of that he was certain. And he knew that Academy regulations did not specifically prohibit them from entering into a romantic relationship with one another. And he knew that this was definitely the next logical step where these emotions were concerned.

There was only one thing he was not certain of: what the cadet in question might feel towards him. He knew that she was at ease with him, both in manner and in conversation. And for as much as she had shared details of her personal life with him, he had done the same with her, at her urging. Nothing quite as intimate as she had shared, for she never asked impertinent questions, he suspected in deference to his Vulcan heritage.

But though he could divine friendship from those actions, he was unable to discover whether it went deeper on her part. He knew that, if this had been a scientific experiment, the next logical step would be to apply the knowledge one has gained to see if the conclusion was accurate. Which meant, if he were to apply a scientific method to this exercise, then his next course of action would be to discuss the matter with her and find out if she returned his regard.

And so, he found himself rising and crossing the room to speak to her. The time had come, and as a Vulcan, he could not live with uncertainty. If she returned his regard, they could decide together what to do. If she did not, that would be the end of it. Spock found himself hoping—illogical though that may be—as he approached her at the windows, that she did.

Uhura noticed that Spock had approached her, and looked up at him expectantly. "Is there something you needed, Commander?"

"Cadet Uhura," he began, then paused. For this discussion, familiarity would be more appropriate. "Nyota, may I sit down?"

"Sure," she said, smiling slightly as she tucked her feet under her, allowing him room to sit down. She set the PADD she'd been working on beside her on the ledge and turned curious eyes to him.

When Spock had seated himself, he turned to her and began. "There is a matter I must discuss with you. A matter of a personal nature," he said. "If you are willing?"

"Of course, Commander," she said.

"Perhaps," he said, wincing inwardly at her use of his title, "for purposes of this discussion, you would consent to calling me 'Spock'?"

Surprise and uncertainty flashed across her face, but she covered them instantly. So like a Vulcan, he was surprised to find.

"Alright, Spock," she said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Nyota, I…"

Spock paused, looking down at his hands, clasped in his lap. He struggled to order his thoughts, to find the most appropriate place to start. He stayed silent for so long that he almost started when he felt her hand gently touch his arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concern in her voice.

He looked up at her, and saw the concern reflected in her eyes. He took a deep breath. "I am not often at a loss for words. It is…difficult for me to express what I wish to say to you."

Nyota smiled softly. "I find it's best to just come right out with it."

"Very well," he nodded. He met her eyes with determination and spoke his heart. "In the time that we have been associated with one another, I have developed a deep regard for you. I value your friendship, but I find that my attachment to you has grown beyond friendship, and I wish to ascertain whether that is the case with you as well."

Nyota's eyes widened and began to well with tears as her hand flew to her lips. She closed her eyes, and a few tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

Sock became concerned when she didn't speak. "Are you unwell, Nyota? Have I upset you? I assure you, that was not my intention. I—"

"Spock," she interrupted him, her eyes open and searching his as she laid her hand on his arm once more. "Are you saying you've fallen in love with me?"

Spock tilted his head to one side. "I believe that is what I said."

She giggled slightly. "Yes, I suppose that is what you said, isn't it?"

Spock's eyebrows knit together in confusion. She had cried when he first made his declaration, and now she was laughing. If he had not had so much experience with human females, he might have been insulted. Instead, he was merely confused.

"You have not answered my question, Nyota," he said, pointing out what he thought was obvious.

"And which one might that be?" she asked.

"Have I upset you?" he asked again. It was not the question he wanted answered, but for the moment it would do.

She smiled gently once more, squeezing his arm as if to reassure him. "No, you haven't upset me."

"Then why do you cry?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Human females cry for lots of different reasons," she said. "Today, I'm crying because I'm happy."

His eyebrow arched ever so slightly. "The declaration of my regard for you has made you cry tears of happiness," he said, wanting to be clear.

"Yes, Spock," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I think I've loved you since the day I sat down in class that first time. You were amazing. You still are. But I never thought you'd even notice me. And then you asked me to be your TA. My roommate said I was so happy it was nearly intolerable."

She laughed at that, and Spock began to relax. Though there were still tears in her eyes, she appeared to be over the initial emotional shock. He reached up without thought and brushed the tears off her cheeks. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.

"I noticed you almost immediately," he confessed in a low voice. "You were unlike any student I have ever had. You sought me out at all hours for answers to your questions. Most of my students quail at the thought of visiting my office, but you had no such fear. It was…heartening."

He paused as she opened her eyes, and he nearly gasped. There was love shining there, he was certain of it. His heart fluttered in his abdomen as he took in the joy of her expression. Closing his eyes for a moment, he composed himself. When he felt able, he opened them once again and continued.

"I have quite enjoyed getting to know you during the last term and this one," he said. "But the constraints of mere friendship are now intolerable. I wish to know if you would be amenable to exploring a more intimate relationship."

"Are you sure that's what you want?" she asked him. "We human females can be…emotional, irrational, illogical. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Spock withdrew his hand and clasped his fingers in his lap. He angled his body so that he was facing her more fully. Though Vulcans did not speak of such things openly, he wanted her to know his mind on this.

"This is not what humans would call 'a passing fancy'," he said. Her eyebrow rose at the use of the colloquialism. "It is perhaps ironic that my father married a human, but it has also allowed me to see beyond the limits of Vulcan society."

"It wouldn't bother you that having a relationship with me might put you at odds with the High Council?" she asked.

Spock looked long into her eyes. He could see the emotions there: concern, trepidation, hope, love. But outwardly she only showed interest. He knew her to be a passionate person, and yet he also knew that she could be restrained when necessary. It was what made her a good cadet, a good Starfleet officer. He now realized that it was this contrast that also made her attractive to him as a potential mate.

"I have already put myself at odds with them, as you put it," he said, glancing away as the memory filtered through his mind. "As you know, it was against their wishes that I entered into Starfleet Academy. If that experience has taught me anything, it is that, while the High Council professes to value diversity, in practice it is more likely that they espouse the idea of diversity, rather than its application."

"They're only trying to protect Vulcan from too much outside influence," she said quietly.

"Nonetheless," he said, turning once again to look at her, "if by entering Starfleet I have offended them, then my courtship of you will hardly be a surprise to them. If it displeases them, then so be it."

"That's not very logical," she said, smiling one of her slightly crooked, playful smiles as she stroked his arm where her hand still lay.

"My mother once told me that a thing need not be logical to be true," he said softly. "I have only recently begun to understand to what she was referring."

Instead of kissing her then as he was certain she expected, he raised his right hand and extended the first two fingers. She looked down at his hand, then back up at him, raising her eyebrow and quirking a slight smile.

"Among mated pairs, there is a thing called _ozh'esta_ ," he said. "It is a way for Vulcans to express affection to each other without the embarrassment of a public display of affection. I wish to share it with you, so that you may know my mind on this matter."

Nyota frowned and chewed her lip for a moment, then she raised her hand in an identical pose, resting her fingers against his. Spock closed his eyes as her emotions surged through him. Uncertainty swirled inside his mind, along with equal parts love and desire. To her he projected all his admiration and regard, hoping she would understand them for what they were. When he opened his eyes again, he saw her sitting still, a look of wonder on her face.

"Wow," she said as he withdrew his hand from hers, folding his own in his lap to resist the temptation to do more. He noticed she had done the same. "Is that what you feel for me?"

"That, and more," he said, no longer hiding his regard for her. " _Ozh'esta_ allows us to share surface emotions. What is within me is much deeper than that, as I expect it is with you."

At his quirked eyebrow, she smiled. "Absolutely," she said. "But let's not do that in public for a while. It's a little...intense."

"Will we be seen in public together?" he asked, hoping she understood his meaning.

"Definitely," she wasted no time to say. "But, maybe just for a while we could keep this to ourselves? I know it's not against the rules, but I still don't want to become part of the Academy grapevine, if you don't mind."

"Agreed," he said. He was gratified that she shared his desire to remain discreet. "I would be pleased if you would accompany me to dinner tonight. I believe that Yoshi's is serving your favorite eggplant dish this evening."

"I'd be delighted, Spock," she said, her smile blooming fully on her face. "I'll even dress up for the occasion."

Spock's eyes darkened perceptibly. "I look forward to it."

Then, he did something that surprised her. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She responded immediately, and they spent a long moment just enjoying the feel of each other's lips. At last, Spock ended the kiss and rose to return to his desk.

"Until tonight," he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

"Tonight," she whispered, her fingers brushing against her lips as her eyes sparkled up at him.

Spock turned then and retook his seat at his desk. Nyota watched him settle in and then picked up her data PADD to return to what she'd been doing before he'd interrupted her. He sat for long minutes, just watching her. He felt more at peace now than he had in a very long time. His mother had indeed been right, it would appear. And he found that particular truth to be wholly unsurprising.

~Finis


End file.
